


Daddy Please

by littleartemis



Series: Quickies [36]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy Kink, Incest, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:35:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleartemis/pseuds/littleartemis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Pulling off his torn shirt, he smiles when he feels lips press against his bared shoulder. Even with out looking, he could tell who it was just by that rough stubble on his soft skin."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Daddy Please

**Author's Note:**

> Was done as a spur of the moment thing for the John to my Dean, and enabler to my Daddy kink.

Pulling off his torn shirt, he smiles when he feels lips press against his bared shoulder. Even with out looking, he could tell who it was just by that rough stubble on his soft skin. “Getting a little excited aren’t we, sir?” he asked playfully, yelping when his ass was smacked in warning. “Daddy…” he whined. Though the man’s only response was to wrap both arms around his eldest son’s waist, kissing his way along his shoulder.

John was too attached…

The hand around Dean’s waist move to his pants, unbuckling them a little hastily. Squirming, the young hunter wanted to swat at it, but arguing with John when he was like this, lavishing attention on his wounded son, was like fighting with a wolf for a piece of meat. In this case, John was the wolf, Dean the meat. In all honesty though, he did not mind being shoved around like a piece of meat once in a while. Especially not when it meant having his Father’s large hand wrapped around his aching length.

One hand was moving into Dean’s silky pink thong, so used to the soft cloth being there that he made no comment. His calloused hand just wrapped around his son’s cock, giving one firm stroke. The other hand moved up under Dean’s shirt, brushing fingers over a perky nipple. Both touches drew a whimpered moan from him. Bucking slightly in John’s hold as he moaned out, “Daddy…please…” both the young hunters hands clutched at his father’s, chewed nails trying to dig into John’s skin. The sharp edges only succeeded in leaving small welts.

His hips rocked into his Father’s touch, eyes closed as he rested his head back on the man’s shoulder. John was stroking at a tortuously slow pace, thumb teasing the head of his son’s cock, pressing at the slit. Chapped lips moved over Dean’s neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin until a large purple and brown mark formed, marking his son man as his. The younger hunter would have a fun time explaining that. Thankfully most assumed it was from an exploit with some random woman.

The hand that had previously been in his shirt moved to push Dean’s pants further down. He roughly parted his son’s legs, pressing his clothed body against the others partly bared one. “You want this, boy? Want Daddy’s cock in your tight little hole?” he growled into the others ear, nipping at the lobe. The hand retreated to work at John’s pants, listening to the almost submissive whine from Dean.

He rummaged through their pants for the lube he knew they always had on hand for moments like these. Handing it to Dean he barked an order for the other to pour some on his fingers.

Groaning Dean did as he was told while John kissed his son’s neck almost tenderly. Then once the young hunter made a sound signalling that he was finished, John switched them around. With seconds he was pressing those fingers against Dean’s entrance, feeling then slide past the right ring of muscle.

His lips collided with the young hunter’s, tongue vying for entrance into his mouth. Their straining erections pressed together with only John’s pants preventing complete skin on skin contact. Dean’s hands made short work of his obstacle, biting at his Father’s bottom lip as he moaned, his hips moving into the feeling of the fingers inside him.

Slowly John moved him back towards the bed, smirking as he pulled his fingers out and pushed Dean back onto the bed. Quickly stripping himself, he was on his son in seconds, lifting his parted legs and wrapping them around his waist. He grinded his cock against Dean’s ass, groaning at how slick he felt. The lube providing enough for him to slide into his son’s hole with little resistance.

Soon his cock was nestled completely in him, pulling small moans from the others lips. With every shallow thrust Dean practically sang with pleasure. Eventually John had to press his lips to his son’s for a deep kiss, swallowing the scream that escaped Dean as his father found his prostate. The young hunter tensed, eyes wide as his nails dragged along John’s back, leaving small red welts in their wake.

Upon that discovery, John shifted so he was half out before pushing in with an almost unholy force. His thrusts were fast and more erratic now, each one pressing his cock against Dean’s prostate. The younger man was making loud cries and moans with each brush against his prostate, begging and pleading for more. His eyes fell closed as he arched and writhed. When the kiss broke he even pleaded with his father for more. To make him come. He needed to so badly.

With one hand around Dean’s cock, he kept fucking him, tongue dragging slowly over his lips as his eyes focused on Dean’s. In a few thrusts, the feeling of his son tightening around his cock had him in pure bliss. He could feel it. Feel Dean coming. The other shooting his load over both their chests as he falls limp between them, a weak sound escaping him as he’s filled with his Father’s come, the elder Winchester following not too long after.

A deep breath left John, chest heaving as he collapsed on top of Dean, nuzzling his son’s neck. The boys legs wrapped around him as he smiled lovingly, brushing some hair back from John’s face as he searched the others eyes with his own.

A sleepy smile formed on his lips as he kissed him. John was home here in his son’s arms. Some might call him sick for it, but times like this were times where he felt most at peace.

And he would not change it for the world.


End file.
